024. CINEMA // PHOTOS

"What are we doing?"

"We're eating."

"No, I mean," she took a deep breath, tapping her fingers against the dining room table, "What are we doing, you know, relationship-wise."

Harry released a frustrated sigh, dropping his fork on his plate. "Why are you bringing this up now, Rory?"

"Why?" she repeated, taken aback by his demeanour. "Because I like you. And I know we said we would keep things private, and I'm not asking to change things, but I don't know how you feel or what you're thinking." Before Harry could answer, she continued, "If you're just waiting until I give in and we have sex, that's fine, but I just need to know."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

Rory looked down at her plate, pushing a piece of pasta around with her fork. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "But I'm guessing I'm right." She had to be. Why else wouldn't he try to tame her fears? "I just want to be on the same page. You don't want us to go past dating or be anything serious, right?"

Harry didn't answer.

The kind of gut-wrenching, humiliating silence took over the room.

Her lips parted to speak, but she silenced herself by pressing them together. "I should go."

"What?"

She put her fork down and got up from the table. "My shift starts soon, and traffic is bad at this time." Avoiding his gaze in every way she could, Rory quickly gathered her things.

"Rory-"

"Just forget I said anything. It was stupid of me to ask."

"Rory."

"I'll talk to you later."

"Rory!"

When she spiralled like this, he was usually able to get her attention by the third or fourth time he called out her name. But not this time. Rory was out the door and vanished from the street within an instant. The poor Bambi had never moved so fast, sprinting away from his house.

She was thankful she was working at Sal's tonight. If it had been at NOWHERE, she would have skipped her shift. Then she would have been embarrassed and without a paycheck for the night.

"Ugh. What happened to you?" Amber asked her with a snarky tone.

Rory closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing herself a brief moment to go to her happy place - something Mia had taught her to do when feeling overwhelmed. A happy place typically meant picturing yourself on a beautiful beach. But Rory took a different path. She pictured Amber as a tiny doll that she had control over, cutting off all her hair and plucking out every eyebrow-

A shrill voice and fingers snapping ruined the peaceful moment. "Hello? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Shoving the rest of her items into her locket, Rory slammed it shut. "Can I help you?"

"What is wrong with you? Your face is..." Amber waved her hand in Rory's face, "Worse than usual."

Rory glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked normal. Well, except for a sad expression slapped across her face and red flushed skin from holding in her tears. But other than that, she was her usual self.

"God, would it kill you to put some make-up on?"

Turning around, she stalked towards the bottled blonde. "What the fuck is your problem? If I look that bad to you, why don't you walk away, Amber?"

"I am trying to make sure all the servers look good, which you do not! You're ruining our image! Are you on drugs or something?"

Turning away and exiting the change room, Rory muttered, "I fucking wish."

"You need to take a drug test!"

"Oh, bite me."

"God knows with the people you hang around. You're probably coked out of your mind all the time!" Amber yelled. "I'm not working with a fucking junkie drug addict! What if you overdose out there? I'm not putting up with that."

That struck a chord. Rory saw red; she salivated over inflicting pain on Amber just as those words did to her. 

 "You know what, Amber?" she spat. Placing her hands on the blonde's shoulders, Rory roughly shoved her against the wall. "You are testing my fucking patience. I'm about two seconds away from grabbing my pocket knife and slitting your throat!"

The look on her face was priceless, something Rory found enjoyable. But once again, the moment was ruined once Amber opened her mouth. "Oh my god! What is wrong with you, psycho?"

"Right now? You." Stepping back, Rory turned the opposite way she was initially heading and entered the office without a knock. "Control your whore. I'm not taking any more of her shit today."

John looked up from his pile of paper and let out a sigh. "Are you two girls not playing nice... again?"

"Babe, she just called me a whore, and that's all you're going to say?" As the man returned to his work without a word, like clockwork, the yappy blonde went off again. "You threatened my life!"

Rory rolled her eyes. "Oh, calm down. It was a joke!"

"Well, it wasn't funny!"

"I thought it was pretty funny."

Amber crossed her arms over her chest and looked at John. "Are you going to do something about this?"

"Rory," John sighed, "How about you do inventory tonight?"

"Are you fucking serious? Your whore won't leave me alone and keeps talking about how terrible I look and insinuating that I'm a drug addict who will overdose, but I get punished?"

He continued to look down at the papers on his desk, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. "It's either that or take the night off, Rory."

"Probably for the best, you know, considering how shit you look. I wouldn't want you scaring off the customers."

Rory leaned over to Amber and whispered, "Sleep with one eye open. We both know I wasn't joking," before leaving the office in an enraged state.

"You know, call me a whore all you want," Amber called out after her, "But everyone knows what you get paid for after hours."

That was quite possibly the worst shift of Rory's life.

Not because of what she had to do (she mostly sat around and did a "quality check" of every bottle) but because she wanted to be anywhere else.

Usually, work was a place to keep her mind busy.

But all she could think about was the fool she had made out of herself.

Entering her apartment building, she climbed the stairs and dug through her bag for her keys. With the abundance of thoughts running through her mind, the only thing she wanted at the moment was to get inside, relax on the couch, smoke a cigarette (or ten) and watch a trashy reality show on the television.

With her keys securely in hand, Rory looked up, surprised to see the figure sitting by her door. While she was annoyed her plans for the night were now ruined, Harry scrambled to his feet, looking relieved.

"Hi."

Ignoring the greeting, Rory asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Did you really think I would let our conversation end like that?"

"It would have been an easy out," she said, turning the key and unlocking the door.

"I'm not looking for an easy out, Rory." Assuming he wouldn't receive an invitation, Harry followed her lead inside the apartment and closed the door behind them.

"Then what are you looking for?"

"You. I want to be with you, Rory. And I should have told you that during dinner, but, fuck, Bambi! You make me fucking confused whenever the topic of us comes up - I didn't know what to say right away!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't believe me when I first asked you out. You were convinced I wanted to kick you out after we had sex and were shocked when I showed up at your door for dinner." He followed her into the kitchen and continued, "That night, you asked me if I was just here to sleep with you, and I told you I wasn't. But no matter what I do, whether it's cooking for you, driving you home, or watching a movie together, you keep bringing it up - asking me if all I want from you is sex. And every time something involves the subject of us, you always question it."

"That's not fair," she replied, her voice rising.

"You know what's not fair? Constantly being asked by the girl I like if all I want from her is sex." Harry took a deep breath, attempting to control the frustration and keep it out of his tone. There was a long pause before he continued, "I know why you hesitated to believe me at first, but I kept coming back. And that still wasn't enough for you to believe me. So I'm asking you, Rory. What else can I do?" Harry stepped forward, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "That's a genuine question. What else can I do to prove to you that I want this? That I want to be with you?"

"Do you want to be with me?"

His touch disappeared. "Are you fucking serious right now?" The frustration, apparent in his tone, made a return. "Were you not listening to what I said?"

"I was. But I'm asking you again. It's a yes or no answer, Harry. Do you want to be with me?"

"Yes."

Without a word, Rory grabbed her purse off the counter and left the room.

"Really, Rory?" Harry called out as he followed her. He watched as she dumped the contents of her bag onto the coffee table and searched for a carton of cigarettes. "Are you seriously not going to say anything?"

Her silence continued as she made her way to the balcony.

"God-fucking-dammit, Rory! Talk to me!"

"That silence doesn't feel good, does it?" she yelled, stepping outside and slamming the door behind her.

Rory sat down on the ground and opened her pack of cigarettes. Thankfully, it was almost full - she had a good feeling she would sit out here to kill as much time as she could by smoking them all one by one. Lighting up, she took a long drag, letting the smoke coarse through her body before slowly releasing it. There was nothing like a first hit to take the edge off.

Her head turned towards the door, hearing Harry shout from inside.

"What?"

"Boss, we've got a problem."

"Yeah? We all have fucking problems," he sneered in response. "Figure it out."

"You don't understand-"

"You clearly don't fucking understand because I just told you to figure it out. Tell me, Dallas, does Colson have a bullet in his head?"

"No, but-"

"Does Kip?"

"No-"

"Do you, Dallas?"

"No-"

"Does anyone, for the love of God, have a fucking bullet in their head?"

"No."

"Then it's not my fucking problem!"

There was a beat of silence inside before something smashed. It sounded like glass; she didn't care enough to get up and check. Rory put out the end of her cigarette, rubbing it against the exterior wall of her apartment building before lighting up another. She was adamant about smoking as much as she could to stay outside. Tapping the end of her cancer stick to let the build-up of ashes fall, she looked towards the door as it creaked open.

Harry stepped outside and sat next to her. Turning his attention to the night sky, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I smashed a glass in your sink."

"Okay," she simply replied, taking another drag. "You make me feel insane."

"The feeling is mutual, Bambi."

Harry leaned forward, taking her smoke so he could have a hit. She watched him place it between his pink lips and noticed the slight crease in his brow as he inhaled. A loud of thick smoke floated around their bodies. Rory hated sharing her cigarettes, but she didn't get annoyed like she normally did. 

"This entire thing between us started because you wanted to kill me. So, apologies if it takes me a bit of fucking time to fully believe that you genuinely like me now and that you actually want this."

"That's fair. But I have no reason to kill you anymore. And I'm still here."

"That's probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me... but I don't think we can work."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're still in love with her."

"Who?"

"The girl whose photo you have in your fucking wallet, Harry!" Rory watched the smoke fill the air around them. "You want to know why I keep questioning us? Because guys don't put my photo in their wallets. I get my phone number in the second cell phone they hide from their girlfriends or wives. I'm the one they want to fuck around with until they find the one they're supposed to be with. So, trust me, hearing you're still in love with your ex isn't anything new, but I'd rather know now that I'm not anything more before it gets fucking worse for me."

"No- that's- Shit. I said that really fucking wrong then. Let me explain. But first," Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. "Open it."

"Harry, she's beautiful, but I don't want to see her picture right now."

He nudged his hand forward. "Please, Bambi."

Letting the cigarette rest in between her lips, Rory took the brown leather item from his hand and opened it. Her brow furrowed, seeing it bare of any photo.

"I blame myself for her death. When we were dating, she put her photo in here, and I never took it out because it was a reminder to keep her safe. But I failed her. I thought it was a way to keep myself on a good path when I saw it, but I realized it was only keeping me tied to the past and not letting me move forward."

Blowing out a puff of smoke, she asked, "So, what? You're not in love with her anymore because her photo's gone?"

"Yeah, about that... I haven't talked about her in years, so I guess I'm out of practice on the right thing to say." Harry placed his hand on Rory's thigh, his thumb gently stroking her bare skin as he thought of what to say. "I just meant I'll always have a love for her. If you think I'm a bad guy now, you should have seen me five years ago. There was a lot of darkness in my life, especially in my head... and she helped me through it. Even when she knew it was ruining her, she stayed by me, so for that, I will always love her. But even if she were still alive today, I know for a fact we wouldn't be together."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because her death is what pushed me to get better. As much as she tried to help me and wanted me to change, I couldn't. At least, not fully. She saw hints of the better version of me but fell in love with the demon inside. And I would have been comfortable with staying like that forever. It took losing her to escape the old version of me."

She put out the end of her cigarette. Unsure of what to say, she asked the only question that came to mind. "What are you going to put in that empty space in your wallet now?"

"Funny you should ask." Harry dug through his inside jacket pocket. "Remember when we went to the baseball game last week and stopped at that photo booth on the way out?"

Rory's eyes widened the moment she saw the strip of photos in his hand. Two sets of photos were taken, but only one returned home; he said they must have fallen out of his pocket on their way out. But there it was, right in his hand.

"I assumed you would have thought this was a corny thing to do," he explained, sliding the photos into his wallet. "She showed me what it was like to live without darkness and what it felt like to fall for someone. Now I can say I know what that feels like."

Her eyes fell to his wallet, seeing the picture of them together. The warmth in her chest returned, spotting the dimples clear as day in his cheeks.

"Rory."

She looked up.

"I know what that feeling is, and I sure as hell get that feeling with you."

"Y-you do?"

He nodded. "I sure fucking do, Bambi. I have to ask-"

Before he could get the sentence out, Rory closed the distance between them with a kiss. His hand went to the back of her neck, keeping her close as he returned the kiss. Making out on her balcony. Now that was something she never thought she would do.

But before this moment, she never thought someone she cared for could fall for her - let alone admit it.

"Rory," he managed in between kisses, "Will," kiss, "you," kiss, "be," kiss, "my," kiss, "girlfriend?"

"Yes." She pressed her hand to his chest as he leaned in to kiss her again. "Wait."

"What is it?"

Regret for ruining a perfect moment washed over her. "Shit."

"Are you okay?"

Abruptly standing from her spot, she went back inside and paced around the living room. Her eyes squeezed shut, wondering if she thought hard enough if she could make this moment magically disappear.

"Rory?" Harry placed his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me, Rory. Talk to me, come on. Whatever it is-"

"I'm bi."

"Okay."

"Okay?" she repeated. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not."

Her brow furrowed. "Why do I believe you?"

"Because I'm telling you the truth, Rory. Besides, that would be pretty hypocritical of me." He chuckled but stopped the moment he noticed her trembling hands. "Have you told anyone before?"

"Only three people."

Intertwining their fingers, he asked, "Did it not go well?"

"The first two people I told were Benny and Mia, who were amazing and incredibly supportive."

"And the third?"

"It was someone I was seeing." Looking down at their hands, she chewed her bottom lip. "He said it wasn't real - that I was just confused. And when I tried to defend myself, he said that if I really thought it was true, that meant I was lying to him about my sexuality. So, he gave me the option: was I a liar or was I just confused?"

Harry gently squeezed her hand. "He said that to you?"

Rory nodded. "He made me answer him. And since I only had those two choices, I told him I must have been confused. And then he-"

As she fell silent, Harry noticed the tear roll down her cheek and reached out his hand to wipe it away. "You don't have to tell me, Rory."

"No, it's fine," she said, taking a deep breath. "He said if I wanted to know for sure, it meant we needed to have a threesome. And if I liked it, it meant that it was the only way I would enjoy having sex, and I owed him more in the future."

Harry's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "You owed him? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I wish."

"Who is this guy?"

Rory fell silent.

"Who was it, Rory?"

"I'm not telling you," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because you look like you'll kill him!"

"Damn-fucking-right I'll kill him!"

Rory grabbed hold of his arm before he got too far away. She worried he might go out on the streets and hunt any guy down who had a past romantic relationship with her, in case they were the one. "Harry, please," she whispered. "I'll tell you another night, and you can kill him then, okay?"

"Fine," he muttered through a clenched jaw. After giving himself a moment to calm down, he spoke in a softer tone and said, "That asshole should have never said that to you. No one deserves to be treated that way or have their sexuality belittled to confusion or lying. That's fucked up."

"I know it is. But I'm thankful I now have a boyfriend," her cheeks reddened, saying that word, "that respects who I am."

"Did you think I would react the same way?"

"If I'm honest, I didn't think that far ahead. But I knew I wanted to tell you." Rory rested her hand on his shoulder. "And, thank you."

"For what?"

"For reacting the way you did."

Harry leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. "You don't need to thank me, Bambi."

"I know I don't. But I am. So, don't make me regret it," Rory teased.

"I won't."

He would.

love u all